ME2: Final Course
by Nyltia
Summary: Emotions run high after the Normandy crew is taken by the Collectors.


He felt numb, the past few hours being nothing but a blur in his mind. He refused to believe his whole crew was gone. Swearing under his breath, he chastised himself for being such an idiot and leaving the Normandy behind. He kicked hard at the sleek metal wall behind him, not even wincing at the pain that now shot up his right foot. _Idiot. Taking the shuttle off to some dumbass mission, taking every single one of my squadmates with me._ Feeling his anger seething through him, he could barely keep it beneath the surface. Hate and rage rising, he screamed and dealt another harsh blow to the wall of his quarters. _How could I have made such a stupid mistake?_ More pain shot through his hand as he hit the wall again, no longer bothering to restrain himself. _I!_ Another blow. _Will!_ More pain. _Make!_ A damaging kick. _Them!_ Numbed pain. _PAY!_ Fuming, he unleashed all of his fury as a final massive assault on the wall, a flurry of punches from his bare hands, not caring about the damage he was inflicting on himself or the now severely dented metal.

Breathing heavily, Shepard collapsed onto his bed, face buried in his bloodied hands. _I will destroy each and every one of them. I will not fail my crew again. Every Collector will suffer. Every one will die for what they've done._ He opened his eyes and stared down at his hands, now noticing the extensive damage he had done. As the numbness began to melt away, he started to feel the twinging pain shooting through his limbs. Slightly wincing, he forced himself up, observing the damage to the metal wall. _Smart move Shepard._ Still criticising himself, me made his way out of his quarters and to the elevator, slamming the button for the third floor.

The ride down felt excruciatingly long, but the door finally slid open and allowed Shepard to leave. He made his way to Miranda's office, pausing for a moment, wondering if he should even explain why his hands are now covered in blood. _You need her help if you wanna get patched up,_ he reminded himself. Keying open the door, he found his XO sitting rigid on the lounge, eyes directed towards the window. She didn't even bother to turn her head and acknowledge his entrance.

"They were good people Shepard, they didn't deserve to die like this." she said quietly, still not averting her gaze.

"They're not dead yet, we'll get them back, I promise." he had intended for his voice to come out strong and confident, but it sounded distantly quiet in his ears.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Shepard." her voice turned to ice.

"I don't." Shepard steadied his voice.

Turning her head, she looked up at him, and he noticed the tears that were silently streaking down her face. She looked down quickly, not wanting him to see her like this. She quickly wiped her face with her sleeve, but the sadness still remained. He had never seen Miranda like this before. He never knew she could display any type of strong emotion, but the wall she'd been constructing around her heart was being demolished, leaving only raw pain behind. He took a few steps forward and sat down beside her, reaching his arm around her shoulder and bringing her close to him. Failing to stop the tears falling, she dug her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

For several minutes there was nothing but silence, only broken by Miranda's occasional whimpering as she struggled to contain herself. Leaning back out of Shepard, she wiped her face clean with her other sleeve. Slightly regaining her composure, she noticed his hands.

"Wh-what happened?" For a second he forgot why he had come to her in the first place. Seeing as how she let her emotions run free in front of him, he thought it only fair to do the same.

"I...couldn't stop myself...I had to let my anger out on something..."

"So you chose yourself..." her voice barely a whisper. Shaking her head, she rose from the couch and proceeded to help Shepard up. "You can let me fix it at least."

"Thanks..." He allowed himself to be led out of her office and across the ship floor to the Medical Bay. Seated at the end of the bed nearest the door, he forced himself to try and relax a bit while Miranda worked. She didn't look up at him, concentrating only on healing the self inflicted damage to his hands.

She broke the silence first. "Do you really think we can get them back?" her voice tinged with a hint of hope.

"I told you, I never make promises I can't keep." his voice was quiet but confident.

"But, the odds of any of us surviving—" she started.

He cut her off, his voice rising slightly. "Never tell me the odds. I don't care what they are. I know we'll make it through this. I know we'll get our crew back, and I know that we'll blow that damned Collector base to hell." His face was set in determination, and Miranda felt he was right.

"Thank you, Shepard." allowing a small smile to cross her face. She had to believe they could survive, no matter what came at them. If she gave up hope now, they would have already lost. _No, I won't let them win. He's right, we will survive. And we'll give them hell._ She finished her work, and Shepard flexed his hands, thankful that medi-gel can work so fast.

"Thank me when we get back."

They both made their way toward the bridge in silence, both knowing what was about to come, neither of them admitting that they felt the slightest hint of fear. The elevator door opened, and they walked quickly toward the cockpit. Joker turned in his chair as he heard them approach.

"We about ready to take them sons of bitches down?" Joker asked, obvious anger and solid resolve in his usually cocky voice. Shepard straightened up and looked straight ahead out the viewport.

"Set a course for the Omega 4 Relay. It's time to get our crew back."


End file.
